


closest in closets

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Closets, M/M, Making Out, PWP without Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo always likes getting frisky after matches. And Akaashi - well, Akaashi likes letting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	closest in closets

**Author's Note:**

> happy kurooaka week! this is a fic that i wrote almost a year ago for a tumblr prompt fest, but brushed off and polished to post here on ao3 in honour of this week. i'd write something new but who has the energy for that (not me).

“We don’t have time,” Keiji says, following Kuroo down a hallway, away from the rest of their teams.

“We do,” Kuroo says. He grins at Keiji over his shoulder, a sharp smile that unfairly sways him. “Come on, Akaashi, live a little.”

Keiji doesn’t say anything else, and Kuroo takes his silence as agreement, tugging on his hand. He drags him into a closet, tiny and painfully cliché, and then he’s pressed up all along Keiji’s body, warm and solid. Shelves dig into Keiji’s back, and if he moves too far to the right he’d jostle the set of mops, so he has to stay right where he is, pushed up against Kuroo, Kuroo’s breath hot on his face.

Keiji has to admit that there’s something thrilling, something illicit in making out with the opponent’s team captain in a broom closet, but he won’t tell Kuroo that, even though Kuroo has to know - this isn’t the first time Keiji’s gone along with him, after all.

“We’ll have to be quick,” he warns him instead, because neither of them can be away for long.

Kuroo hums, clearly biting back some childish reply, and strokes a hand through Keiji’s hair, still damp with sweat from the match they had just played. 

Then he leans down and kisses him. 

Keiji opens his mouth immediately, tongue darting out to meet Kuroo’s, tasting sweat and salt and energy. The adrenaline from the match is still pumping through his veins, making him eager and impatient for action, and the lips sucking on his present an attractive outlet. He fists his hands in Kuroo’s shirt, leaning back against the shelves until they’re digging into his back and tugs Kuroo closer yet.  The kiss turns heated quickly, one of Kuroo’s thighs insinuating itself between Keiji’s, and when they finally break away for air, Kuroo’s voice is a rumble in Keiji’s ear.

“Is it bad that I wanna fuck you right here?” Kuroo asks, breathing wet and hot against Keiji’s neck, tugging him closer so he can nip at the skin. The wild mess of his hair brushes against Keiji’s jaw, teasing at the sensitive skin. 

“No time,” Keiji says again, trying to keep his own breathing under control. Kuroo’s thigh is firm against his, so tempting to rock down on; and Kuroo’s fingers, long and lithe, are stroking the bare skin over his waistband. This is as far as he’ll go, Keiji knows, unless Keiji says he can.

“We’re not needed for anything,” Kuroo counters. 

Keiji smiles, shaking his head. “They’ll look for us,” he says, and then turns to the side to catch Kuroo’s lips in another kiss, calmer this time but still playfully insistent. They  _ are  _ needed, and they will have to go back soon, but with the way Kuroo’s calloused palms are sliding over his lower back, venturing down to palm his ass and forcing them even closer together, Keiji doesn’t want to leave just yet.

He presses his own thigh against Kuroo’s crotch and enjoys the startled intake he gets in return. It’s still new and intoxicating to know that he can have this kind of effect on Kuroo, who’s normally so cool - that’s not a thought Keiji would ever confess to in front of him, but he’s been taken by Kuroo for a long time. Even when he and Bokuto get up to their usual antics, it doesn’t devalue his image in the same way, and getting that Kuroo Tetsurou, a third-year captain for a rival team, to groan and shudder is one of the most arousing things Keiji can think of. It makes him want to bend his own rules, agree to stay in this tiny closet until they’re both panting and spent, but there’s something -

“Akaashi! Yo! Akaashi!” 

\-  _ something  _ that’s keeping him, and it won’t let him forget. 

He can hear Bokuto’s yelling clearly through the closed door, and Keiji recognises the heavy footsteps making their way to him, even through the distracting haze of Kuroo's mouth kissing down his neck. “Akaashi, where are you?”

Kuroo lifts his head from where he’s been sucking on Keiji’s collarbone, making a short noise of frustration. Keiji can’t help but agree. He hears doors opening, steadily drawing closer, and there’s a brief, uncomfortable moment of panic where he tries to think of how to delay the inevitable; but there’s no way he could sneak out now without Bokuto seeing, and finding someplace to hide is impossible in the tiny closet space. Kuroo seems to already have given up, nipping at Keiji’s earlobe, and Keiji tries to resign himself to Bokuto’s bad mood followed by  _ years  _ of teasing after he finds him and Kuroo like this. Still, he’s not pulling away, and neither is Kuroo. Kuroo grinds their hips together teasingly, but Keiji smacks his shoulder in lieu of a verbal reprimand, both because he’s trying to be as quiet as possible and because any rebuke would be false and half-hearted. After all, Kuroo can feel just how affected Keiji is, pressed tight and hot against him like he is.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto calls again, and Keiji is straining to hear where he is in the hallway, which is why he hears the second set of footsteps before he hears another, less familiar voice.

“Bokuto?”

“Nobuyuki! Hey! Have you seen Akaashi?”

“Oh, shit,” Kuroo whispers in Keiji’s ear. Keiji agrees. Bokuto finding them is one thing, but Nobuyuki knowing would just be embarrassing, no matter how easy-going he is about it.

“No,” comes Nobuyuki’s  peaceful reply. “I’m looking for Kuroo.”

“Sorry, haven’t seen him,” Bokuto says. Keiji can hear him opening a nearby door and shouting their names, and he winces at the sound.

“Kuroo..” he murmurs, almost pulling away. 

“It could be worse,” Kuroo says, shushing him and kissing him again in consolation, as if their bruised lips, red skin and awkward walking aren’t going to be bad enough. He moves his hips again, the heated line of his erection digging into Keiji’s hipbone, and Keiji doesn’t even bother telling him to stop this time, instead letting himself enjoy it for as long as he can.

“Maybe they’re busy,” Nobuyuki says, once Bokuto has closed the door again. 

Bokuto huffs loudly. “They have to be around here  _ somewhere _ ,” he says. “It’s not fair for them to leave me behind! I wanna celebrate!”

“Celebrate with the team you beat against?” Nobuyuki asks. Kuroo’s laugh is hot and curling in Keiji’s ear, causing shivers to run up his spine.

“Of course,” Bokuto sniffs.

“Have you checked outside?” Nobuyuki asks, with an air of exasperation Keiji knows well. “They might have gone out for air.”

“Good idea! I’ll go check,” Bokuto says, and then there’s the sound of his sneakers slapping against linoleum as he runs down the hallway and out of earshot.

There's a brief moment of silence before Akaashi exhales in relief, clutching Kuroo closer - then Nobuyuki sighs. “Coach was asking for you, Kuroo,” he says, and leaves.

Kuroo stops working his hips against Keiji’s and looks at him with wide eyes. “How does he  _ know _ ,” he mouths.

Keiji shrugs. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” he says, and Kuroo narrows his eyes at him, leaning forward for one last, biting kiss before he releases him and separates their limbs.

“I’m plenty subtle,” he says. “Nobuyuki’s just on another level.”

Keiji draws a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down enough to go back and talk to his coach, but he pauses long enough to give Kuroo a nod. “Sure,” he says dryly.

“You’re one mean guy, Akaashi,” Kuroo sighs. “But it’s part of your charm.”

Keiji doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so he just smiles to himself and follows Kuroo out into the hallway. They walk in silence back to the court, bumping shoulders occasionally, and just before they turn the corner, Kuroo holds him back and kisses him one last time, soft and heated. “I wanna make good on it,” he says. “Come over later.”

“Maybe,” Keiji says, smiling.

Kuroo grins back. “You're very coy, Akaashi,” he purrs, leaning in so his breath ghosts over Keiji’s lips. “That's part of your charm, too.” Then he pulls away, content to let the tease hang in the air as he saunters back onto the court. Keiji snorts, hiding it in his hand as he scrubs it over his own lips, and follows him.

**Author's Note:**

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